Chapter 2
Melissa was clearly caught off guard by my reaction.
She probed. "Sabrina, you really don't mind?"
I turned around, leaned against my desk, and just stared at her, saying nothing.
"Why would I? Owen is the most eligible bachelor in the city. Girls would kill for a shot like this. Sounds like your golden ticket," I said, my voice cool and unreadable.
It was so deadpan she couldn't tell if I was serious or mocking her.
The last bit of hesitation disappeared from Melissa's face, replaced by barely contained excitement.
She dove onto her bed and started crafting her reply to Owen, agonizing over every single word.
The dorm was silent except for the quiet, frantic sound of her typing.
Watching her like that, I suddenly found it almost laughable.
Last time, I gave everything to secure her "happy ending"—the stable life, the right guy. And it got me killed.
And her? Over a "chance" she never even got to take, she condemned me to hell.
Was that fair?
Of course not.
So this time, I wouldn't stand in her way.
Go ahead and walk that hell-bound path on your own.
Let's see if that high-society dream you've been chasing was really worth it.
*****
Friday rolled around in no time.
Melissa went all out for the party that night.
She went all out for the party. She maxed out her credit card on a designer dress—cost more than three months of her allowance. She dropped another few hundred dollars on her hair and nails.
That afternoon, James showed up at the dorm with her favorite strawberry cake.
He was a real stand-up guy, and everyone in our department could see just how much he cared about her.
He handed her the cake, grinning sheepishly, "Melissa, my mom sent some homemade cookies today. Want me to bring them over tonight?"
She took the cake, but her eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze.
"No, I... I have plans with Sabrina tonight. We're hitting the library for an all-nighter to study," she said, her voice a little shaky.
Even as a bystander, I could see right through her clumsy lie.
James' smile froze for a moment, but he didn't suspect a thing. He just mumbled disappointedly, "Oh. Alright, don't overdo it."
He gave Melissa a worried glance, then looked at me. "Sabrina, make sure she gets some rest, okay? Her stomach's not great, so don't let her stay up too late."
I just nodded, not saying a word.
As soon as James left, Melissa shoved the cake box into my arms.
"Here, you eat it. Too many calories. I gotta keep my figure for tonight." She scoffed.
She was fixing her makeup in the mirror, not even bothering to hide how much she disliked the cake.
"God, Sabrina, James can be so annoying. All he ever does is bring me stuff I don't even want. He's got zero sense of romance," she griped.
I held the box. It was still warm. I couldn't help but think back to my previous life.
After James' business tanked, this was her exact tone. She'd call him a loser. A failure who couldn't give her the things she deserved.
But she forgot—she was the one who used to swear up and down that all she needed was real love. That money didn't matter.
I set the cake down on the table and said flatly, "He's good to you, you know."
"So what if he is?" Melissa shot me a scornful look. "Nice doesn't pay the bills, Sabrina. You're just too naive. For a woman, marrying up is the only thing that matters. If I can land someone like Owen, I'm set for life."
Her words were dripping with daydreams for a future she didn't have and pure contempt for the life she did.
I looked at her, and for a moment, I realized maybe I'd been wrong from the very beginning.
I used to think it was just vanity. That if someone just shook her hard enough, she'd wake up.
But now I got it—greed was in her bones. Give her peace, and she'd call it boredom. Give her a ladder, and she'd climb it over anyone's back.
*****
At seven that evening, a sleek black Bentley pulled up outside our dorm.
All the girls in the building went crazy.
Melissa, in her brand-new dress, glided toward the luxury car like she was walking a runway, soaking up all the envious and jealous stares.
The door swung open, and Owen stepped out from the driver's seat.
Wearing a perfectly tailored casual suit, with a playful smirk on his handsome face, he opened the passenger door for her.
Melissa slipped inside, a little flustered, but she still shot a look back up at our building.
I knew exactly who she was looking for—me.
Her eyes were practically sparkling with pride, showing off for everyone watching.
Her whole pose screamed, "Look, Sabrina. Look at where I'm going. A world you'll never touch."
I just stood on the balcony, my face blank, watching as the Bentley drove away.
Behind me, I could hear my roommates talking excitedly.
"Oh my god, Melissa is seriously something. She actually snagged Owen!" one said.
"But what about James? He's so sweet to her," the other said.
"James? Please. He's nice. But he's nothing compared to Owen. If I had the chance, I'd drop a 'nice' guy in a heartbeat for that," the former one said.
I turned and walked back into the dorm, closing the balcony door behind me. The chatter vanished, sealed out.
My phone vibrated. It was a message from James.
It read: [Sabrina, is Melissa with you? Her phone goes straight to voicemail.]
I stared at the text. My thumb hovered over the screen.
Last time, when I saw this message, I was freaking out. I called Melissa right away. She never answered. She never came back that night, either.
This time, I typed back, my reply short and calm.
I replied: [She's in the shower. Her phone's dead.]
Then I switched my phone to airplane mode.
Your road, Melissa. You chose it.
Where it ends—heaven or hell—is no longer my business.